


Love Me Tender

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: tumblr ficlets [71]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, aziraphale is overwhelmed by it all, crowley adores aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 15:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18574006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Crowley is very nice to Aziraphale. He also has a bit of a mouth on him.





	Love Me Tender

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt asking for Crowley dirty talking Aziraphale while also being very slow and gentle with him. I don't write slow sex pretty much...well, ever (it's usually fast or rough or kinky), so honestly this feel like one of the least sexy things I've ever written? I hope I'm wrong.

It was maddening, was what it was. Aziraphale prided himself on remaining composed even at the worst of times, but at the present moment he was finding it somewhat challenging. He twisted against his restraints, tugging at the ropes that bound his wrists and becoming increasingly frustrated as they did not budge.

A long-fingered hand curled around both his wrists and held them still. “Gentle, angel,” Crowley murmured. “Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whined. He didn’t care that it was unbecoming. The demon sat astride him, knees bracketing Aziraphale’s thighs, both still completely dressed. Aziraphale was tenting his trousers. Crowley appeared unaffected. The bastard.

“Easy,” Crowley cooed. He stroked his hand along Aziraphale’s arm, fingers playing over the fabric that covered it. “We tied you up for a reason, angel. We both know I can’t trust you to behave yourself.” His hand came to rest on Aziraphale’s chest, right over his heart.

Aziraphale stared up at him with desperate eyes. “Please, darling,” he said.

“Shh.” Crowley leaned down and captured his lips. Aziraphale moaned into the kiss, and Crowley slid his tongue into Aziraphale’s mouth, tracing along the backs of his teeth and stroking against Aziraphale’s tongue in kind. The hand not braced on the angel’s chest slid up his thigh, stopping just short of where Aziraphale wanted it and squeezing gently.

“You’re so good for me,” Crowley purred against Aziraphale’s lips. The angel whimpered. “You let me tie you up, angel, because it makes you feel better. This way, all those dirty thoughts going through your head, all those sinful things I’m going to do to you, they’re all my fault, aren’t they?” He kissed along Aziraphale’s jaw, his teeth scraping more and more as he got close to the angel’s ear, which he nibbled on before hissing into it, “You couldn’t stop me, you can rationalize. It’s all that nasty, lustful demon’s fault. Your hands are clean, angel. And mine-“ Aziraphale gasped as Crowley’s hand slid swiftly up his thigh, palming the bulge in Aziraphale’s trousers. “My hands,” Crowley murmured, “are filthy, wicked things.” He squeezed a little tighter, and Aziraphale bucked into it, unable to help himself. “They tease you, don’t they, angel? They make you want things no _good_ angel would ever want.”

His tongue curled around the shell of Aziraphale’s ear and licked, punching Aziraphale’s breath out in two short puffs. “What do I make you want, angel?” Crowley whispered.

“I…I…” Aziraphale’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head as Crowley began kneading at him, working his hand against fabric-covered flesh, hard as steel and aching to be stroked properly.

“That’s alright.” Crowley nosed down his cheek, nipping at the juncture of his neck and then laving over the pulse point. “I’ll guess, shall I? Let me guess what the pure, _virtuous_ angel secretly wants.”

His hand was suddenly gone, and Aziraphale wanted to cry. It moved instead to his chest with the other one, and Crowley flicked a nipple through Aziraphale’s shirt.

“You want me to undress you,” he said. “Of course you do; pride is a sin, but you are proud, aren’t you? Proud of that sweet, plump body of yours. So soft, so lovely. You’re proud of it, proud that just a glimpse of skin can drive a demon to distraction.” Crowley rolled his hips down, his cock rubbing against Aziraphale’s thigh. He didn’t seem unaffected anymore. Crowley threw his head back and groaned. His thumb flicked at a button on Aziraphale’s shirt, and when his head fell forward again, he was grinning darkly. “I’m supposed to be the tempting one, but really it’s you. I want to suck those stupid, manicured fingers one by one. Want to lick all the way up your arm and down your chest, sink my teeth into your stomach because there’s just so much of you, and it turns me on.” He stopped thrusting against Aziraphale’s thigh with some effort, and his grin widened. “But this isn’t about what I want. It’s about what you want.”

He slithered down Aziraphale’s body like the serpent he was, scooting back until he straddled Aziraphale’s calves instead of his thighs. His clever tongue snaked out, and with a wink he bit open the top button on Aziraphale’s shirt. He worked his way down, using his teeth to yank it out from where it was tucked into Aziraphale’s trousers. He parted it with both hands, leaning back again to admire.

He slid his hands slowly up Aziraphale’s chest, rubbing gently over the soft skin. “Oh, angel,” he breathed. “Absolutely stunning.” He bent low and scraped his teeth down Aziraphale’s abdomen, his tongue flicking out to dip into Aziraphale’s belly button. “I love it when you go all out for me. All the equipment…so many _choices_.”

Aziraphale arched his hips up, but Crowley veered away before his mouth reached Aziraphale’s cock. “I know,” he murmured. “I know what you want. I’ve been showing you how good my mouth is, how skilled it is at drawing pleasure out of you. And I know that all you can think about now is me going down on you, me wrapping my lips around the fat, dripping head of your cock and pressing down until every inch is buried in the wet heat of my throat.” Aziraphale moaned. Crowley sucked a bruise into Aziraphale’s hip and continued, “You want to feel my tongue. You love my tongue, love all the things I can do with it. I could twine it all the way around you, make it twist and pulse and squeeze. I could lick you all over.” He paused, baring his teeth up at Aziraphale. “I could just lick the head. That lovely spot that’s getting your trousers all wet now, I could lick that. Could lap up every drop of delicious precum, could press my tongue into the slit just a little, just the way you like, a tease, like I want to slither inside you and lick you up from the inside out.”

Aziraphale shuddered. A wet spot was indeed forming on the front of his trousers, and it was only getting bigger the more Crowley spoke. “Anything,” he begged. “ _Please_.”

Crowley didn’t give it to him. He stroked his hands down Aziraphale’s sides. “Patience, angel.” He rubbed his nose against Aziraphale’s stomach, and then pressed a kiss there. “I could get off just like this, you know. Wouldn’t even need to take my cock out, could just rub against your thighs, against your stomach, and come in my pants. There’s that pride again, isn’t there? You’d like that, seeing me come undone, seeing me lose control, so desperate to have you that I can’t stop myself. Gluttony’s a sin too, but I’d glut myself on you.” Crowley chuckled. “Of course, I’d need patience for that.”

He reached down between his legs and gave his own cock a squeeze, allowing a filthy moan to slide free of his throat. “Fuck, I needed that.” Then he let go, and to Aziraphale’s great relief flicked open the button of Aziraphale’s trousers. He winked at the angel. “Can’t be having all the fun, can I?”

He took the zipper down with his teeth. Naturally. Aziraphale’s cock pressed up insistently, fighting against the constraints now that it had a tiny taste of freedom. Aziraphale shuddered as Crowley pressed a kiss to the fabric-covered head, tugging down the trousers but leaving on the pants. “I love you like this,” Crowley told him. “Coming apart under me, bit by bit. I’m hardly touching you, angel, and you’re falling to pieces.”

Aziraphale tugged at the ropes again. He needed to touch Crowley, needed to get a hand on himself, needed-

Crowley was blinking up at him, slow and sweet, his head cocked just slightly and a tiny smile on his lips. The love in his eyes was overwhelming. The ache in his groin didn’t lessen, but Aziraphale settled. “That’s it,” Crowley beamed, awe in his voice. “Relax for me. Let me take care of you. Let me give you what you want.”

When Aziraphale relaxed all the way, Crowley rewarded him by tugging Aziraphale’s pants and trousers down and off, leaving him just in the open shirt. He grinned up at Aziraphale, sitting back on his heels and toying with his own shirt buttons. “You want me to take this off, angel? Strip nice and slow, touch myself as I do it?” He paused, as if thinking, and then shook his head. “Nah. I’d rather touch you.”

The clothing disappeared in a blink, and then Crowley resettled himself between Aziraphale’s knees, nudging them apart. “You want my mouth, then? I can give you that, like I said before. Can swallow you down, every inch, and suck you until you’re coming down my throat and I’m swallowing every drop. You like that, I know you do, you like it when I take you inside me. Like I’m taking communion.” He bit at the back of Aziraphale’s knee and followed it with more bites up the side of his leg, leaving little bruises in the wake of his mouth. He whispered into the skin, “You like that, don’t you? That little blasphemy?”

Aziraphale moaned, although it had as much to do with the way Crowley was gripping his leg, pressing his thumb into the juncture of his hip so very, very close to where Aziraphale needed it, as it was about the words he was saying.

“I’d drink you down like communion wine,” Crowley promised. “Every drop, until you couldn’t come anymore, until you ached as I sucked you through it, desperate to get every bit I can, to feel so close to something holy. Taste your flesh…” He nipped again, just by his thumb, and Aziraphale keened, “and know true divinity. And you love it. Making a demon holy again.”

“My darling…”

“You could have it, if you wanted,” Crowley whispered. He turned his head, and suddenly his mouth was right there, breath ghosting against Aziraphale’s cock. It throbbed and twitched towards him, red and swollen and aching. Crowley cupped his balls and rolled them between skilled fingers, squeezing just right to make Aziraphale’s eyes slam shut before he forced them open again. “Is that what you want, angel? You want my mouth on your cock?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He shook his head. It was tempting. It was so, so tempting. But there was something he wanted more.

Crowley smiled. He licked a stripe up Aziraphale’s cock, just once, just enough to make Aziraphale cry out in pleasure, his hips arching up off the bed so Crowley could pin him back against it with one tender hand. “I know,” he said. “You don’t want my mouth because you want to hear it. You like me telling you about what I want to do to you, what I think you want me to do to you. You like me whispering filthy things like temptations, because if I’m the one saying them then you’re not dirty for thinking them. No one can blame you for temptation, because you’re not giving in to it. I’m _taking it_ , taking what I want, and what I want just so happens to be what you want too.”

He sat back on his heels, knees spread. They framed his cock, long and thin like he was, full of pumping blood and redder than his swollen lips. Aziraphale stared at it and spread his legs a little wider.

Crowley grinned. “You want my cock, angel?” He curled his hands around Aziraphale’s thighs, pushing them up. “You want me to open you up with my fingers, nice and long, stretching deep inside you? Pushing all your buttons, making plenty of space so that when I slide inside, I slide all the way in. Thrust in to the hilt, make you feel all of me, feel me filling you up with all my adoration, my _need_ for you.”

“Please.”

“I could miracle it in,” Crowley murmured. He did miracle something, but it was lube to slick his fingers with. He traced one around the outside of Aziraphale’s pucker, and then pushed just the fingertip in. Aziraphale groaned and arched into the touch. “I won’t, though,” Crowley said. He pressed in a little farther, still just a tease. “I like this part too much. Getting you open, making room for me inside you. There’s so much of you, angel, so much to love. I just need a little space inside you, need to open you up just a little so I can get inside that love, can feel surrounded by it.”

He rubbed his cheek against Aziraphale’s thigh and pressed the finger all the way in. Aziraphale gasped and moaned. He pushed back against it, and Crowley pumped it in and out, twisting it to rub against his walls. “That’s it,” Crowley cooed. He nuzzled into Aziraphale’s other thigh for good measure, giving in to his own need to touch the angel as much as possible. “I’m going to give you another. Do you think just two, or should I put a third one inside you?” He pressed the second digit in and scissored them apart, Aziraphale’s body stretching accommodatingly around him. “I’m not all the thick,” he said. “I could just slip inside you, couldn’t I? Two fingers to stretch you out, and then I could just bury myself inside you, feel your walls clamp down around me, pulling me deeper. You always feel so good when I get inside you. Like your body knows I belong inside it, wants to make me feel as good as I make you feel.”

Aziraphale’s mouth was hanging open, but he was incapable of speech. Crowley’s tongue flicked out, licking a stripe up the inside of his thigh and ending just shy of the crease of his hip. He hummed. “I’ll give you a third anyway. I don’t want to hurt you, angel. I could never do that, you know. Not even for my own pleasure.”

He slipped the third finger in, crooking them and rubbing against that spot inside Aziraphale that made him see stars. He cried out, and Crowley purred in satisfaction. His tongue traced around Aziraphale’s entrance, where they were joined, not dipping in but stroking the sensitive flesh.

“Delicious,” Crowley told him. “I think you’re ready.” He pulled his fingers free and wrapped them around his cock, pumping lube onto it with a low groan. He shuffled forward, guiding himself against Aziraphale’s entrance, his free hand clutching tight to Aziraphale’s hip as he rubbed his head against the pucker.

“Tell me you want it,” Crowley breathed. His golden eyes were blown with lust, his lips parted. He looked divine as he stared up at Aziraphale, waiting. “You have to ask for it, angel. You can blame me, you can blame the demon for tempting you, for making you want to be fucked, to be claimed so primally, to be debased by a fiend from Hell. You can blame me all you like, but you have to ask first. You have to tell me this is what you want.”

“Crowley…”

“Tell me, Aziraphale.”

“I…I want it.”

“Yeah, you do.” Crowley leaned down and kissed him, and Aziraphale melted under his lips. Crowley pushed in, and Aziraphale’s mouth fell open as the head popped inside and then kept going, Crowley’s cock sliding in to the hilt, his balls settling against Aziraphale’s arse.

“I love you,” Crowley murmured. He pet Aziraphale’s thighs, coaxing them up around his hips. “I love this, love being buried in you. I can feel all of you like this, clenching down around me, keeping me inside. Can you feel me throbbing? Feel the way my cock aches, desperate to thrust, to claim you as my own?” He rolled his hips, hardly a stroke, more a gentle nudge, and Aziraphale moaned. “You feel so good,” Crowley said. “Want to fuck you slow, savour every moment of it.”

He started to thrust, as slow as promised, but deep, rocking himself in and out of Aziraphale’s body with practiced precision, shifting the angle until his cock pressed against Aziraphale’s prostate on every stroke. His hands clung to Aziraphale’s thighs, trembling slightly, and his breathing grew uneven, morphing into shallow pants.

“Can you come like this?” Crowley asked, breathless. “Tell me you can come like this, just from me moving inside you. Not fast or hard, but slow and deep and all-consuming, filling you up inch by inch. Just the feeling of my cock inside you, making you feel as good as you make me.”

Aziraphale’s cock wept against his stomach. He’d stopped trying to tug at the restraints a long time ago, had leaned into them, clinging to the rope like it was his only lifeline. He was throbbing, whimpering every time Crowley leaned low enough that his muscled stomach brushed against Aziraphale’s aching erection. He couldn’t have answered if he’d tried.

Crowley cupped his cheek. “Oh, angel,” he murmured. “I won’t tease.” He wiped away Aziraphale’s tears with his thumb, and then licked them off his finger. “I won’t tease anymore, I promise.”

He licked his palm and wrapped it around Aziraphale. His thrusts didn’t change pace, and his hand matched it, just as slow as he pumped Aziraphale’s cock, tightening his grip at the base and twisting his wrist at the head. He shushed Aziraphale’s sobs, guiding him expertly over the edge. “That’s it, angel. There we go. Come for me. Let me see you give in.”

Aziraphale’s orgasm did not so much punch out of him as it drained away. One moment his body was tense, strung high and desperate, caught between Crowley’s cock in his arse and the fist wrapped around him, taking him higher and higher. The next, he was spilling, was falling as he gasped and cried out, streaks of cum painting Crowley’s hand and their stomachs. Crowley caught him, loosening his grip but still stroking him through it, gentling gradually until Aziraphale was finished and lay limp against the bed. Crowley pulled out and slithered up Aziraphale’s body, rocking his hips down against the mess on Aziraphale’s stomach, his cock sliding against the angel’s soft skin, hissing out little moans until he came too, adding to the mess.

He sat back, staring transfixed. Aziraphale watched him through lidded eyes. Crowley’s tongue flicked out, and he leaned down, tasting them together. His tongue rasped over Aziraphale’s skin as he licked him clean. Then he pressed a kiss to the head of Aziraphale’s soft, spent cock. It twitched, and Aziraphale shuddered.

Crowley reached for the ropes and unbound them, taking Aziraphale’s freed wrists between his hands and massaging carefully at the abused flesh. “Does it hurt?”

Aziraphale shook his head. Crowley kissed each wrist in turn and released them. He stroked a curl out of Aziraphale’s face, looking down at the angel. “How do you feel?”

“Loved.”

Crowley smiled. He bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to Aziraphale’s lips. “You are always that, angel. Always.”

Aziraphale did not like to sleep, but as Crowley settled against him, coiling himself around Aziraphale with all his limbs, Aziraphale allowed himself to drift. He was still floating, still enveloped in that deep, overwhelming love. It was emanating from the serpent on his chest, and it was something he could never, ever doubt.


End file.
